not like this
by shucky motherfucky
Summary: WRESTLING FANDOM Randy's voices drive him to do awful things to a certain Punk, but it's not like Randy doesn't enjoy doing them.. until the voices lose their control on him. Angsty Randy Orton/CM Punk story. Semi non-con. All I write is angst dude wtf..


**TITLE:** not like this  
**AUTHOR:** Pepperrrr  
**RATING:** M for SEX SEX SEX MWAHAHAHA YESSSS  
**PAIRINGS:** CM Punk & Randy Orton (this is fucking hilarious I wrote randy as random at first)  
**WARNINGS:** Kissing, kind of non-con, rape ish, biting, kayfabe but not, violence, guilt, angst, trauma, other shit  
**P.O.V:** Third person Punk's at first, then switches to randy-centric and back and back and back and who CARES  
**DATE WRITTEN:** April 28th 2012 8:28-9:15 pm and 9:39-10:07 pm and April 29th 2012 10:24 am-10:35 and 10:39-11:04 and 11:11-11:39 (i stopped to watch the dark shadows trailer because get it on was in it and i was shaking and sdlkfnsl) and 11:40-12:20.  
**SUMMARY:** Randy's voices drive him to do awful things to a certain Punk, but it's not like Randy doesn't enjoy doing them.. Until afterward, of course, when the voices lose their control on him.  
**AUTHOR NOTES:** So yeah. Sex. Fun. But it's not light hearted or anything. Just sad little smut. With big scary Randall. And shit. Urgh I don't wanna say anything else i'll ruin the whole storyyyy.  
And yeah I know the bench things in the trainer room aren't big at all, but pretend that they're big enough to fit two people comfortably.

* * *

Fucking tired.  
_Fucking angryandhornyandidon'tevenknow._  
God my fuckin elbows hurt fuck this shit i'm tired.  
_There you are._  
Punk yelped as he was grabbed by the back of his neck, and he was led roughly toward the trainer room, which was weirdly empty.  
_Convenient._

Punk soon realized, as the door was kicked closed, and swiftly locked, that  
(he was utterly _fucked_)  
this was trouble. And he knew where the trouble was coming from. A certain snake that he'd encountered before. FUCK.

Punk's mind was scrambling, but his joints were creaking and complaining and his body too tired. That match was quite a bunch of tough ass bullshit.  
"Randy what the fuc-"  
He threw Punk down onto the  
(gurney?  
bench?

bed like table thing?)  
and he loomed over the smaller man, who stared up at him rather fearfully.  
"What? Are you afraid of me?" Randy was grinning, and Punk's face darkened. He was about to shake his head no when Randy gripped the sides of his head. He let out a little surprised noise as he felt the heat rolling off of Randy's shimmering skin, he was so close.

(he must have had a match too  
wait yeah he had a match right after me  
wait did he ditch his match just to rape me or some shit?  
_fuck_)  
He was forced to look up directly into Randy's icey blue eyes, and he shivered, nearly _convulsed_ in the snake's grip. "I've never known you to be a liar, Punk. But just now.. You almost said you _weren't_ afraid of me."

He watched with amusement as Punk's eyes flashed and darkened. And Randy was bending in closer, until their noses were pressed together, and he could feel Punk's breath hot on his lips. And his voices were heating up and screaming  
(_want want i need i want i want we want WE NEED_)  
And then Randy was shoving his tongue into Punk's mouth, invading his sugar-bitter sweetness with vigor. And Punk was bucking hard against Randy's body, fighting

(ugh you're always fighting why can't you just give in to anything)  
to get free of the taller man's weight looming over him. He made desperate, growling noises, the noises rumbling against Randy's sharp tongue. Orton's hands rushed to pin Punk's thrashing, writhing hands down, and grinning against pierced pink lips as Punk's body bucked harder. He seperated, begrudgingly, to breathe and look down at his trapped prey's confused face.  
"Why are you doing this?

(i don't want this to go where i know you want to take it  
because i know you won't stay  
gods you _never_ stay  
and i need you to stay)" Punk asked him, eyes a strange dark brown, with sad little bits of green as he stared up at Orton, his lips bruised and abused by the bigger man's rough treatment of them. "Just let me go..

(please  
_please_  
i don't want you like this  
i wanted you as a human  
not like this)  
you're fucking crazy.."

And Randy ducked his head down to suck and bite at the tattoo behind Punk's ear, his stomach jolting as Punk let out a very loud whine.  
Orton got high off of this. He didn't need drugs, smoking, or any of that shit when he could have Punk's pulse beat rapidly under his lips as he stole his life, or under his palms as he held his arms down  
(yes this has happened before, five times at least, probably more, but Randy only fully remembers heat, punk's noises, the way he felt, and the way his heart sank into his stomach from guilt as he watched punk's face when he left the area afterwards.  
his animal instinct always ran out at that wounded, wrecked face)  
and had him any way he felt like.

Rough, slow, torturous, fast..  
It was all up to Randy.  
"I still don't know what makes you work, Punk. You seem to get me sooo much, don't you? But I don't get you.." Randy found himself whispering against the obviously sensitive spot  
(oh if only he were there to see and hear him as he got that spot tattooed-oh fuck-randy was getting painfully hard as he thought about it, and he clutched at the wrists in his hands even harder, biting into the tattoo behind punk's ear again to muffle a horrible noise he wanted so so badly to make at the painful lusting he felt now)  
and Punk tightened up a little more, and his eyes slammed shut because now, everything was going down the road Punk didn't want to go down again.

Not again. He didn't feel or see when Orton pulled both of their trunks down. And then  
(oh gods)  
he was filled with Orton's lust and need, and Punk cried out, his head lolling over the edge of the bench, his eyes squeezed shut and his head swimming with pain pain pain pain and then he felt lips against his throat, and he felt like it was robbing his breath right through his skin. And Randy let out a broken groan.

"You're always so tight.." He found himself musing outloud, voice scratched with want and sex, and Punk shivered, trying to move his body down so he could stop his head from exploding.  
It wouldn't explode really.  
Maybe it would.  
And Punk actually wanted to laugh at his sudden sidelining. But the humour in his head was snuffed by Randy thrusting hard into him again.

It was all rough, and hard, and it hurt. Punk was crying out, Randy was growling and biting at Punk's tattooed skin, and then it was over after what seemed like forever, with Punk's oversensitive linings rubbed raw and him coming hard against his will, falling back against the bench boneless and dizzy and ashamed.  
A little later, Randy was gathered again, and he had, out of human courtesy, fixed the smaller man's clothing  
(his trunks and shirt)  
but he had left his own shirt off, not nearly sane enough to care about that. And then Punk's silence was broken.

"Why can't you do this when you're sane..?" Punk near-sobbed, his head falling to one side, eyes squeezing shut and mouth in a sad little shape as they closed around the end of the sentence. And Randy's heart jolted, the still-sane part of his mind gave him a heavy stone of guilt to be dropped into his stomach. He stilled beside the wrecked and ruined Punk, eyes grey and stormy. "I'm so tired.. I'm so tired of hurting.." And the terrible greif in his voice made Orton's head swim as the voices were shouting at him

(_don't give in_  
_crocodile tears_  
_why did you do_  
_thats all it is_  
_how could you do this_  
_who even cares it's not_

_..._  
_but look at him_)  
and they were all on different sides, making Randy feel as if he was beng torn in two.  
(ha ha ha torn in two isn't this ironic, orton? the voices on punk's side sneered)  
And so Orton moved to leave the room, leave Punk behind and leave just leave. But then his hand was grabbed.

"Don't leave again..." Punk's voice sent a rod of ice stabbing up and down Orton's spine. He turned around and looked hard at Punk, who was sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bench. And then he was staring brokenly at him through the dark olive glass of his eyes. "I don't want to watch you leave again. I've done it too much."  
Oh god.

Randy's heart was dying at the wounded sound of Punk's usually loud and proud voice. He'd heard it before, but only in broken fragmented sentences, broken off moans and cries and sobs. Never in what Punk really wanted to say. He usually left before the straight edge man had the ability to do so. "I fucking _hate_ being used." His voice was strangled and angry, but his face remained an anguished mask, and Randy swallowed, throat too thick and tight at those words.

(_he loves_  
_just wants to be abused_  
_hurt him again he likes it_  
_he wants you to stay_)  
And then Randy wrapped his arms around the smaller man, his mind not registering the way Punk's legs wrapped around his waist, the way his head buried into his shoulder, lips brushing against his collarbone. And the way he was falling asleep in his arms.

"Please don't do it this way anymore..Don't hurt me again.." Punk mumbled against Orton's skin, and the taller man made a promise in his head to comply. Randy's silence didn't encourage the punk though. "Tell me you won't." He demanded, fingers digging into the tan skin of Orton's back.  
"I won't hurt you again. _Ever_."

And Punk nuzzled into Orton's neck, comforted into near-sleep by the rumbling promise from the Viper's lips.

* * *

FIRST SMUT. FIRST SMUT. FIRST SMUUUUT. On this account anyway. And I only wrote one smut and posted it before HO-LY SHIT.

HOLY SHIT BRO. FIRST GOOD SMUT. THIS IS GLORIOUS.

Oh I hope it doesn't suck though.  
/hides;;


End file.
